


spirits we set free

by orphan_account



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: !!! fi!!!, (to an extent lol), Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Moral Ambiguity, Morality, Pre-Canon, Protection, The Great Calamity, anyway i love fi, divine intervention, me shoving hcs on fi despite never playing skyward sword, well. i started it but then it got sold yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21721345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sometimes she wonders what she can do ─ she is restricted to simply watching, and never interfering. There is nothing for her to do. But her voice is not restrained. She is not fixed in place. There is still something she can do. Someone that she can help.
Relationships: Ganondorf & Link (Legend of Zelda), Ganondorf & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 35





	spirits we set free

**Author's Note:**

> idk why people hate fi shes cool

She _feels_ it, that old malice curled beneath the land. It is perhaps the only familiar thing within this Hyrule. She lets it pass over her form, softens herself so that she doesn’t appear like a threat to it. 

Within its core, there is something small. Quiet. She renders herself half-formed, passes through the thick and angry malice until she reaches its core. Something at the centre curls into itself, away from her.

Does she make it scared? Is it afraid of her? She supposes she will find out.

She draws herself closer to it, makes herself tangible so that the creature huddled at its core finally notices her. The malice tries to wrap around her. She blinks, imagines it far away from herself, and it is sliced apart.

The creature — the child — at the core of the malice looks up. They are so young. Younger than her master had been when they first met, when he first forged the blade and first drew her from the ground. It is almost terrifying. 

This is a child no older than ten, surrounded to their core by her antithesis.

"you got rid of it," whispers the child. Their voice trembles. Whether it is from shock or fear, she cannot tell. "i thought… i thought it was never going to leave me alone."

She settles herself beside the child. They unwind, slightly, tilting their head up to look at her. Their hair is as red as the malice surrounding them. 

"will you keep me safe?" asks the child. 

"I will," she promises. Then, "what is your name?" 

The child taps their foot against the floor. "tell me your name first."

She whispers her name into the air. The malice hisses. It rears its ugly head as if to descend upon her, only to fall back and away from the light.

"i'm ganondorf," says the child. They peer up at her nervously, as if they expect her to react to the name. She says nothing. "i… they all thought i was going to be evil. i don't know why." 

"am i?" The child asks. Why would they trust her to tell them the truth, even though she has never met them?

"I think," begins Fi, "that you are very strong, and you are good. You have fought this malice for so long — please, rest. I will keep you safe." 

"okay," says Ganondorf. He rests.

The princess' energy wavers.

Even now she tires. Her every waking moment is devoted to holding the malice at bay, and every moment of her sleep is tormented by the nightmares sent towards her. Her eyes drop closed, and the exhaustion weighs heavy upon her. She looks as if she is about to fall unconscious.

Fi settles herself beside the princess’ side.

The malice spills away from her, leaving the imprint of a perfect sphere surrounding them. It lingers. Sticky and heavy, it swells in the air. She concentrates and in a breath of a second the air clears. The malice retreats, but not far enough for her liking.

Zelda breathes. Her chest rises and falls. Her breaths come long, and slow, and deep. She seems more at ease, at last. Fi sits herself beside the woman. She hums, soft and low. 

Her companion sits, too, staying still and quiet. Fi sings her old song. The words of the goddess’ song have never left her mind ─ it would sound better with the harp to accompany it, but it is still pleasing to hear. She tilts her head, and smiles at Zelda.

“How are you feeling?” Asks Fi.

Zelda frowns, and shakes her head slightly. The movement is almost unconscious. “...Strange,” says the woman eventually. “I had grown used to being surrounded by the Calamity’s malice. To be free of its influence… it is a relief, even if that relief is only temporary.”

Fi hums, the old song of the goddess still clear in her mind. The tension in Zelda’s back unwinds noticeably, as she sinks against her side. The song sounds more like a lullaby. This, too, is a child ─ not in the same sense as Ganondorf had been, so small and young that he could have been no older than ten. Zelda is just turned seventeen, and she carries herself with an air of maturity.

But there is a weight to her shoulders, and a despair in her bones that Fi can feel twinging outwards. She ends the song, Zelda remaining still and quiet. This moment is a brief respite for a child who carries the burden of death and hope entwined.

“I wonder…” Zelda sighs. Her voice sounds weak, almost drained. “Is anyone else so heavily hurt by the Malice that surrounds me? Here, I feel almost helpless. I can do nothing until Link wakes. Is there anyone that I can comfort, however menial it may be?”

Fi wraps an arm around Zelda’s shoulder, and says, “there is but one other. He is young, younger than you are. I would say that he is about ten.”

“Direct me to him.” Zelda demands. “I wish to help, however I may be able to.”

She asks, “you will not judge him for his blood? He is another child of prophecy, one damned to hold the Calamity’s cursed blood. He fears the reactions of others, to the point that he was scared to tell me his name.”

Zelda slumps. “If I can help, then I will. If he is cursed, then I am too, albeit in a different regard. I will help where I can.”

Fi uncurls her arm from around Zelda, and stands. The young woman has a fresh energy in her gaze ─ a twist of determination, strength, and a promise to uphold her duty. “You will do a wonderful job,” says Fi. “Know that I am proud of you. Tell Ganondorf that I will return when I can ─ he is surrounded by the Malice within the centre of the castle.”

Zelda nods.

Her master has been sleeping for a long time; Fi has been counting the days as they pass, slow and quiet. There is not much to do, yet. The walls of Malice around the castle grow thicker and thicker. It has been seventeen thousand, one hundred and sixty six days since her master fell into his healing sleep.

Sometimes Fi feels him stirring. Faint impulses of his consciousness, flickers of thought that dart out to greet her, only to fizzle out whenever he fades deeper into slumber. She gently settles against the restorative chamber. Here, the life essence of Link is strongest. It reaches out as if to pry him from the chamber (the chamber which looks like a tomb.)

No ─ she cannot allow herself to think so poorly. Her master must rest, and recover. She is certain that he will. Fi cannot allow herself to quiver in her thoughts. The old goddess-song sticks in her mind. She sings.

 _Give me faith, goddess of mine,_ Fi thinks, _even now I remain stoic in my devotion. Please, grant me this one boon. I wish for my master to live._ She does not stop singing. Once her voice had been a source of strength for him. She hopes for that strength to carry forward.

Her master’s energy pulses. It is a small pulse, weak and shivering, and yet it survives. She reaches out, cradling the frail thing between her palms. _Thank you,_ it seems to whisper to her. She sings.

Link will recover. He must. She has every faith in him, and her faith does not falter.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my twitter @ phantomhwa!


End file.
